


Of All the Secrets You Were My Favorite

by TheBlueBicycle



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Child Abuse, Codependency, Death, Domestic Violence, First Kiss, Growing Up, Imaginary Friends, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:16:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueBicycle/pseuds/TheBlueBicycle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was older now, it wasn't acceptable to have an imaginary friend. And Daryl hated that term, he really did. Because Rick wasn't that. He could hear Rick, he could feel Rick but he knew that no one else would understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of All the Secrets You Were My Favorite

**Author's Note:**

> So, warning. This is sad, sort of. I mean, it is. But I also think there's cute parts. Sorry for any typo's (I guarantee there will be a few) Enjoy!

Daryl couldn't say a definite time when Rick showed up. Looking back, his earliest memories had been with Rick. All of his memories were with Rick. However the catch was that no one could see Rick except for him. 

Merle said it was freaky watching Daryl grow up. The way he seemed to be entertained by thin air. By nothing. Although Daryl knew it wasn't nothing, it was Rick. Rick was the one always on the other side of him, pointing to the faded blocks on the floor as he built a play tower, always the one sticking by his side chattering away. When the boy finally grew old enough talk the Dixon house was filled with words, Daryl talking endlessly with his friend. 

One day Merle finally asked. "The hell are you talking to, boy?" 

The younger Dixon huffed like he was being interrupted from a conversation and looked towards his brother, shaking his head. "Rick," He spoke in a 'duh' tone. Daryl gestured to his side to what was supposed to be Rick though Merle only saw air. 

Merle stayed silent for a moment before speaking, "You best stay outta my stash, you're seeing shit." He then left, shaking his head and writing it off as his baby brothers over active imagination.

\---------------

"Are you real?" 

Daryl asked this with a furrow of his brow, turning to his friend as they walked through the woods. Rick made a 'pft' noise and shook his head. "'Course I'm real, I'm here, ain't I?" Daryl paused for a moment before nodding his head and the two six year olds continued walking. 

\---------------

When Daryl reached the age of nine he learned not to bring much attention to his friend, to not talk about him much. Especially around his father. At school he didn't have any friends but he didn't need any, he had Rick. They'd run around the playground together and holler in fits of laughter. Daryl learned to ignore the looks that the other students gave him but as he grew older in elementary school he became more cautious. 

"Daryl," He could feel a hand at his shoulder, Rick's to be specific. Daryl ignored it. "Daryl." It came again and the boy chanced a glance to his side to see Rick next to him at his sixth grade desk with pleading eyes, begging for attention. The expression wore him down quick. 

"You know I can't talk right now- " 

"Mr. Dixon?" Came his teachers soft, worried voice. 

"Yes?" Daryl asked, sinking slightly in his seat, eyes averted. 

"Who were you talking to just there?" 

"No one, just muttering to myself." 

The teacher seemed doubtful but nodded her head. "Alright.. Well, get back to work." 

"Yes ma'am," Came his answering mumble. Daryl stayed silent again, unmoving until Rick sighed beside him. 

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to get you in trouble." The curly haired boy apologized. For the rest of class Rick helped the other on his math work but otherwise didn't make a peep.

\---------------

"Don't wanna go back to school." They were older now, fourteen and laying in the forest again, just staring up at the stars. 

Rick shook his head, "I know you don't but you've gotta. It's good for you." 

They were laying close to each other, hands intertwined. Daryl knew that if his father or brother saw this he'd have hell to pay, laying with a boy like this, holding hands but there was a mild comfort in knowing that no one could see Rick but him, though that brought unhappy feelings too. 

"I'll be there with you, you know I will be." 

Daryl looked over and frowned. "You promise?" 

The other boy grinned and nodding his head, squeezing their hands together. "I promise." At the end of the night Rick gave him a sloppy kiss to the cheek and they both walked back to the Dixon home with pink faces and grins. 

\---------------

Rick had been with him through everything. Through his mother burning, Merle leaving and the first time that he'd learned of the power that alcohol could have over people, specifically his father. Daryl had asked Rick one day why he was here, why no one else could see him. "I'm here because you're here. I'm not here for anyone else so they don't see me. They don't need to see me." That was the only answer that Rick ever gave him. Sometimes it was frustrating, not knowing, but for the most part he was just grateful that Rick was here with him. 

\---------------

High school was when things started to change. Daryl learned that he couldn't acknowledge Rick's presence in public at all. Especially not at home. He was older now, it wasn't acceptable to have an imaginary friend. And Daryl hated that term, he really did. Because Rick wasn't that. He could hear Rick, he could feel Rick but he knew that no one else would understand. High school came and so did harsh behavior from his father. The man reminded him of a bear sometimes. Lumbering, large and with a snarl on his lips. He remembered the days when his father had kissed his forehead, when he cooked dinner and took care of the house and Daryl knew that Rick could remember them too. So, he didn't leave. He wouldn't abandon his father, no matter how much he hated him now. He'd just ride it out and leave and never look back at this place when he did. 

"You can't let him do this to you anymore." Rick whispered this to him one night. They were in his bed and Rick was running gentle fingertips over Daryl's bruises. 

"Can't leave, the fuck would we go?" And Rick didn't have an answer. 

That night they kissed for the first time, inexperienced but heart felt and Daryl swore that it felt so damned real. 

\---------------

One day during his Junior year in high school someone caught him talking to Rick. 

Negan was his name. The older boy have given a charming grin and cocked his head to the side, "You know, I always see you doing that. Mumbling. People are bound to think you're a loon." They were in the empty locker room together and he could feel Rick tense behind him. 

"Get out, Daryl. Now, I don't like this guy-- Please, lets go." Daryl hadn't listened and instead had squared his shoulders, jaw clenched and fixed Negan with the meanest glare that he muster. After all he wouldn't back down from anything and especially not a prick like Negan.

In the end Daryl was left in the locker room with a bloody nose, busted lip and an empty wallet. 

That night Daryl got angry at Rick. "Go away!" He shouted. They were in the woods again. The teen shoved at the Rick's shoulders, sending him stumbling into a tree. "This is your damn fault! It's all your damn fault-- Leave, Rick! Go away!" He knew that he was being unfair but he needed someone to pile the blame onto, someone to lash out on and Rick was the perfect candidate. Rick looked as if he'd been struck, his face crumbling into an expression that would haunt Daryl. And then, he was gone. 

\---------------

Rick stayed away for four days and those four days had been the longest of his life. He'd never been without the other once and now suddenly he was thrust into a world that he hated. One that he was lonely in, one that was without Rick and his perfect curly hair and bright blue eyes. 

When Rick came back Daryl was a blubbering mess. "I'm sorry!" He got out. The house was empty tonight. "I didn't mean it, I swear, I was being a real fucking dick and I didn't mean it- Shit, Rick, I'm so sorry." Rick didn't speak much that night but they held each other in bed close, clutching tighter when Will's footsteps filled the home later. 

"I won't ever leave again, Daryl. I promise." 

\---------------

For awhile things were good. There was a period when Daryl's father didn't come to the house much and Rick and he were left to their own devices. They'd laugh with each other and trade playful but equally shy kisses every once and awhile. Life was good and Daryl thought to himself that he couldn't wait to leave. Couldn't wait to have a life with Rick. It didn't matter that no one else saw him, it only mattered that they would be able to be together, that they'd always have each other. The rest of the world didn't seem to matter much when Rick was by his side. Daryl felt strong, Daryl knew that he was strong with Rick by his side.

\---------------

Daryl was eighteen when it all came to a close. 

The house wreaked like vomit and moonshine, shattered glass near the corner where the TV set. That night, things got bad. 

Daryl was on his stomach on the living room carpet, his father pressing him into the floor with a growl. It was getting hard to breath for Daryl, ribs protesting in pain, lungs struggling for air. 

"Shut the fuck up," Came Will's slurred voice. He was high on something but Daryl didn't know what it was. His shirt was torn off and suddenly there was more pain. A belt digging into his back. 

Rick was screaming his head off, screaming and yelling and carrying on. 

Daryl however, was silent. He kept quiet, knew that it'd be over sooner if he didn't protest and instead let out small whimpers. "You're gonna kill him!" It was Rick's voice, yelling at Will even though the man couldn't see nor hear him. Rick tried to run against Will but he kept going straight through his body unnoticed, over and over and over again. 

Will gave a frustrated shout, "I said, shut up!"

It confused Daryl since he was hardly making any noise. But there Rick was again, screaming and yelling. 

"'S'okay." It was Daryl that time, trying to comfort his friend as he spoke in a whisper. His everything. 

Eventually the teen passed out, the blood loss getting the better of him, his wheezing for air stopping. Will Dixon had gone far this time. Daryl was in an out of it, vaguely hearing words. 

"Daryl, please stay awake. Please, Daryl. Keep with me." That was Rick, he was sure. 

Then there was a pounding at the door. "Police, open up the door!" 

Will Dixon sat back and stared at his sons unmoving form and sobered slightly. "Shit." 

"This is Officer Shane Walsh, I repeat, open up!" 

Daryl tried not to focus on that and instead on the hand that was running through his hair, Rick's hand. "It's okay, it'll be okay now." Daryl Dixon believed those words and the fight in him left as the door was kicked down. 

\---------------

Shane Walsh completed the report a night later and returned it to his boss's desk, uncharacteristically quiet and unspeaking. The file was left open on the desk as he walked out without saying goodbye to his coworkers, mind filled with thoughts that kept his lips shut tight. When his boss read the file later there were certain words that stood out to him, words that the whole department was thinking about. 

'Daryl Dixon: Deceased.' And then, 'Neighbors heard screaming.'

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Gimme a comment and let you know what you think, drop a kudos of you liked it- This is my first that I've completed so sorry if it sucked. Thanks for reading!


End file.
